


With Schools Built Like Prisons

by musiclily88



Series: Wasted Youth// There Wasn't Much to Waste [7]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:45:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam gives testimony, and Louis tries to determine the best way to apologize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Schools Built Like Prisons

**Author's Note:**

> UM I apologize profusely. Lots of angst and snarking. EMOTIONS. Bickering. AHHH xx
> 
> comments and criticism are openly appreciated.

“How’d testimony go?” Louis asked through the open window of his glossy red Porsche.

“Fine,” Liam said, walking around the bonnet to slide into the passenger seat. “Super fun hearing a litany of abuses and seeing photos of all the injuries I collected over the years.” His head dropped back against the headrest and he shut his eyes.

“Was—what about your mum?”

“Left with my sisters.” Liam rubbed his palms on his trousers, jaw tense. “Get me out of this fucking jacket.” He opened his eyes and pulled at his blazer feebly. “Get it off me!”

“Whoa, stop.” Louis leaned sideways and grabbed Liam’s hands. “Whoa.” He rubbed Liam’s shoulder until he stilled. Then he removed the blazer one arm at a time before folding it in his lap.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t particularly enjoy the speeches about _obvious signs of physical abuse spanning over a decade.”_ He sighed and buckled the seatbelt.

“Not to mention the emotional wreckage,” Louis added, starting the engine.

Liam exhaled softly. “Not to mention that.”

“So now you’ve given testimony against your incarcerated father, what are you gonna do with the rest of your life?”

He stuck his hand into the cup-holder to retrieve a half-empty package of cigarettes and Louis’ lighter. He lit two and handed one to Louis.

“Smoke? I approve.”

“And something stronger if you have it,” Liam said with a shrug.

“Liam, my young friend. Keep in mind we are still sitting outside of the courthouse.”

“Then fucking drive.”

Louis drove aimlessly for a time as he and Liam chain-smoked and ashed their cigarettes out the open windows. He drove past their school, eliciting groans from Liam. “It’s the weekend, you twat, what are you doing?” he asked, making Louis laugh.

“Just seeing if you were paying attention.” To placate him, Louis began pointing out landmarks and sites of interest. “That’s where I punched a chav in the throat for calling me a faggot. Then I threw a kebab at him.”

“Justified.”

“I know. And that’s the chemist where I get my prescriptions filled. They know me by name.”

“Because your name’s on the order, idiot.”

“No, it’s because the chemist wants to fuck me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she told me so.”

“Doubtful. Plus, don’t antidepressants flatline your libido? Boner-killer, for sure.”

“You haven’t been complaining. Also I think my meds would actually have to be doing their intended psychological purpose for me to get the side effects. Right?”

“I have no idea, I’m not a fucking doctor.”

“’Spose not.”

“Still depressed then?”

“I don’t know what it’s quite like to be—not depressed, innit. Not to be a miserable little shit.” Louis flicked his fringe out of his face. “Ah well. I suppose being happy would only take away my raw animal magnetism anyway.”

“Shut up.”

“Whatever. There’s the park I buy anything the chemist doesn’t supply,” Louis said next, pointing out the windscreen at the green patch of land.

“Typical.”

“Once I thought I saw a vagrant getting stabbed but really it was two vagrants having sex beneath a tree.”

“What?”

“It was vigorous.”

“Oh my god, you utter pervert, you watched two hobos fucking in a park. You totally did.”

Louis rolled his eyes but played along. “How else am I supposed to get my jollies? I can’t be bothered having sex _all_ the time, everyone’s dick needs a break now and again.”

“You should consider going into porn.”

Louis considered this. “I have the arse for it, definitely.”

“And the perky twink thing, too,” Liam joked, rolling his eyes.

“The perky bit’s all an act, you know.”

“Of course I know. I am emotionally intelligent enough to learn at least a few basic facts about someone I’ve been regularly fucking for months.”

“A romantic, you are.”

“Whatever.”

“I could be an actor, maybe. I’ve always been fond of the cinema.”

Liam snorted. “That’s a ringing endorsement if ever I’ve heard one.”

_“I have clinical depression, you ignorant twat.”_

“It stops being an excuse when you use it all the time as an explanation for everything.”

“No it doesn’t.” Louis gripped the wheel tighter. “I don’t tell you that years of systematic physical abuse aren’t an excuse for you acting like a sanctimonious cunt.”

Liam stilled, throwing his half-smoked cigarette out the window. “Stop it. I don’t want to get into baby’s first big fight while we’re both trapped in the car.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know how fond you are of getting into horrible car wrecks.”

“Fine.” Louis made an abrupt left turn and pulled into a random spot in the carpark of an ice cream parlour. He turned the engine off but kept his hands gripped on the wheel.

“Let me guess. This is the spot you’ll point to somewhere in the future and say _I argued with some forgettable sadsack here, I don’t remember his name, I wonder if he’s still alive?_ Giving some other bloke the tour of where you grew up and what spots are meaningful.”

Louis laughed derisively. “Did you not notice that none of the places I mentioned were meaningful? That was the whole fucking point. Apparently even my attempt to distract you is meaningless. My fucking mistake.”

“What the fuck, Louis?”

“I’m fucking trying, okay? But I don’t know what you’re even doing here with me half the time, but you’re better than that, okay? So if you’re going to act horrible when you’re around me, you’re better off alone.”

“That’s—that’s what you think?” Liam scoffed, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to the side.

“Obviously.” Louis threw his arms into the air, one hand connecting with the ceiling awkwardly. He winced.

“Have you actually been listening to a word I’m saying? Shit!”

“Yeah, that’s how I know you’re being an intolerable asshat.”

Liam smacked his legs then ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not _just_ an intolerable asshat, I’m—you’re going to leave me in the fucking dust, you know? Because you’re you, right, and I’m just some forgettable poor kid who you’re fucking to pass the time til you get out of here and do something meaningful. Because you—you—you’re a force to be reckoned with and one day you’ll realize it, right?”

Louis yanked his seatbelt off with a loud grunt before dropping his head into his hands.

Liam took a ragged breath before continuing. “And, fuck, for years I’ll—I’ll probably still be here working some shit job to save up enough money to go to uni but really I’ll just give most of it to my mum because she’s suffered even more than I have, okay? And I can’t just fucking leave her! And I’m just someone you’re fucking around with because you’re bored. You fucked my best fucking mate and I put up with it, right, and I have no idea why, but I don’t get it, okay? I don’t get why you picked me up at the courthouse and I don’t get why I let you and I just want you to _not be so fucking miserable every time you see me._ Why are you so miserable every time you see me?”

Louis threw his hands up into the hair. “I’m not miserable every time I see you! It’s the only time I’m not miserable, and that’s fucked up, right, because I can’t fucking rely on you to fix me! That’s insane and I can’t do it, I won’t do it. You deserve better than that! And I probably do too. You’re better off without me and I just—I’m too fucked up! I just am! So fuck you!”

“Fuck _you!”_ Liam spat, “fuck you with your stupid self-doubt and your self-deprecation. Why can’t you just let yourself feel something?”

“Me? Me feel something? Says the guy who’s constantly telling me to be quiet or to go away or leave well enough alone,” Louis snarled. “Really? You’re starting this now?”

“I fucking hate you!”

“I know you do! And I hate you too!” Louis threw open the driver-side door and fell gracelessly out of it, legs and arse landing firmly onto the asphalt. Then he steepled his legs, resting his face on top of his knees. “Fuck.”

He heard the passenger door slam and closed his eyes as Liam rounded the front of the car. “What are you doing?” he yelled.

“What am I doing?” Louis opened his eyes and raised his head. “What the fuck are you doing? What do you even want from me?”

Liam dropped to the ground on his knees, setting his palms on the asphalt. “What do I—what do I want? What do _you_ want? For the love of god, what would make you happy?”

“I have no idea, all right! I have no idea, but you the only thing that’s come even remotely close.” Louis scrubbed at his face, then stared at Liam with watering eyes. “And that’s terrifying and stupid, because you’re going to leave the way everyone else does and then I’ll just have—what, my sister and some fucking therapist. Like that’s so fucking amazing. I am going _nowhere.”_ He coughed back a sob. “I just—what are you doing here? Why do you let me anywhere near you?”

Liam growled at him. “I hate that you hate yourself! It _kills_ me that you think you’re a piece of shit. If you’re a piece of shit, what does that make _me?”_

“It has nothing to do with you! You’re nothing at all _like_ me, okay? You’re a good person and you work hard and people actually _like_ you. And if I’m gonna fucking ruin that for you, you’re better off with someone else!”

“I don’t _want_ someone else. I want _you.”_ Liam set his hands on the car, effectively caging Louis inside his grasp.

_“Why?”_

“I don’t know, okay? It doesn’t make sense but it doesn’t have to! Just let me like you!”

Louis dropped his head back onto his knees, feeling his eyes sting. “I don’t know how to do that when I know you’re just going to leave me too.”

“But maybe I won’t.”

“Yes you will. Fuck, look at you. You’re like a goddamn superhero and I’m just a pitstop on your way up. A funny anecdote to tell your mates over a pint.”

“Why are you constantly questioning this?” Liam dropped his hands and sat down hard on the rough ground, staring plaintively at Louis.

“You’re doing it too! And better to do it now so you can get out before you realize just how much of a disappointment I am,” Louis said, raising his head to look Liam in the eye.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Liam responded, grabbing Louis’ ankles in his large hands, pressing down with his thumbs. “And you haven’t disappointed me, not once! You’re—you’ve been here even though you had no idea what you were going and that was _enough._ You were enough. So don’t try pulling away now because I don’t think I can take it. Not now.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“I’m not.” Liam dropped his hands to the asphalt.

“Yes, you are. And I’m just waiting for you to realize it.”

They sat in tense silence for a long collection of minutes during which Louis sniffled and Liam’s chest heaved up and down. Regaining composure, Louis dragged himself up to a standing position and reached down a hand to help Liam up.

“I really hate you right now,” Liam said, brushing off the back of his trousers.

“Not as much as I hate myself,” Louis answered with a shrug, running one hand over his face. He leaned against the car door and sighed.

“I hate you.” Liam took a step closer, veering into Louis’ personal space. “But there’s no one else I want to be with right now. So let me be with you.”

“I’m going to ruin you.” Louis looped one finger through a belt-loop on Liam’s trousers, pulling him incrementally closer.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Liam let himself be yanked forward. “And next time you have a hissy fit, please warn me in advance so I can wear something I’m fine with getting dirty.”

“Now who’s being a fucking priss?” Louis asked, staring up keenly into Liam’s dark eyes.

“Still you,” Liam said, running one thumb along Louis’ stubbled jaw. “Let’s refrain from having panic attacks in carparks from here on out.”

“Fucking a closet-case is stressful, okay. Under lust’s heavy burden do I sink.”

Liam’s brows furrowed intensely. “That’s not—is that a thing? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Just bastardizing the bard. Ignore me.”

“You won’t let me ignore you,” Liam retorted, pulling on a lock of Louis’ hair. “And I don’t really have to be a closet-case anymore. Testimony. Jail and all.”

“Ah, the wonders of the justice system.” Louis cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve had a very public and very loud domestic in front of a quaint ice cream parlour, how about we—”

Liam rushed in and kissed him hard, silencing him and sending a harsh shiver down his spine. Kissing Liam in public was new, very new—and Louis was unused to stumbling across something he had yet to do. He let this thought roll around in the back of his mind as he pressed into Liam’s torso, moving their hips together.

As abruptly as he had surged forward, Liam retreated, but he left his thumb on Louis’ jaw. “Hey Lou?”

“Yeah?” Louis’ eyelids fluttered open.

“Can I drive your car?”

Louis snorted. “You’re a good kisser but not that good.”

Liam leaned in and bit down on the hollow behind Louis’ ear. “Yes I am,” he whispered, kissing the spot he’d just bitten.

“Fine.” Louis disentangled himself and shakily moved away from the driver-side door. “Watch the paint job. I just got this thing.”  
***  
Louis’ days spun together a little bit less blearily. He still refused to do his coursework and he still tried to get Liam hard during chem lab. He endured glares from his classmates, from Zayn; he listened to Niall’s laughter during lunch when he ate with Liam. He tried to remember when he got used to spending his days in a poisonous fog of boredom and malaise.

He took his pills. He talked about his day and he admitted that he hated himself. He hated most things, especially hated his stepfather and his mother, a bit. He hated waking up in the morning only to realize he hadn’t spontaneously died in the middle of the night. He hated feeling baseless and groundless and angry. He was always so angry. Most days he felt empty of anything but anger.

He didn’t think the pills helped him—at least not the ones he got with a prescription—and that made him angry too. He had no way to displace it. Liam suggested he take up boxing, offered to teach him, but he demurred. “I’d only muck it up.”

But he went to therapy and he took his medications and he let Zayn glare at him through every meal they spent together. He pretended to enjoy it, the way he always had done.

“Why are you staring at me, mate? S’fucking creepy, like,” Zayn muttered. “You gonna go postal and shoot up the place like a nutter?”

“That would really get in the way of a quality education, wouldn’t it?” Louis smirked. “Nah, not really my style. I’m more of a suffer-in-silence, stoic sort.”

“Stoic? You?” Zayn flung a chip at him.

“Laconic, even. Taciturn. The opposite of loquacious.”

“Been revising for lit, then?” Liam asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Not really. I’m just naturally brilliant. Have an ear for languages, like.”

Zayn muttered something in Urdu, shooting Louis a dirty look.

“What’s that then?” Liam asked, giving Zayn a curious look.

“He called me a filthy fucking liar,” Louis answered, quirking a brow.

“Lucky guess,” Zayn growled, causing Niall to laugh loudly and steal the rest of his chips.

“Well, lads,” Niall said, mouth full, “it’s been real, but I’m gonna head to the practice room to fuck around with the drums.”

“Better not, Ni, Gene nearly blew a gasket last time you screwed around with those,” Liam reminded him.

“Thanks, daddy Liam, I’ll keep that in mind,” Niall responded with a wide grin, standing up.

“Don’t call him that,” Louis and Zayn demanded simultaneously.

“You lot are disgusting. Shag it out and leave me alone.” He shrugged his bag over one shoulder. “Later days!”

“Sometimes I hate him,” Zayn muttered, standing up. “I need a smoke.”

“Clearly someone hit a nerve,” Louis remarked. “But maybe I’m just being smug because I know what you’re missing.”

“Louis,” Liam hissed.

“I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you,” Zayn said, casting his eyes down to look at Louis’ crotch. “Because there’s something I’m definitely not missing.”

He left Louis and Liam stunned into silence, swaggering out of the canteen.

“That was actually pretty on-point,” Louis admitted, flicking his fringe out of his eyes.

“You were being a dick to him,” Liam said, cheeks flushed.

“Only because he makes it so fucking easy. Also, divine retribution for cheating on his girlfriend, I guess?”

“He cheated with _you.”_

“Speaking of which, have you broken up with your beard yet? I keep forgetting to ask.” Louis fiddled with the cap of his bottle of water, selfishly wishing he’d never taken a vow of sobriety during school hours.

“Yeah.”

“Regretting that I let you convince me to do this?”

“Not…as such.”

“You could always trade up for Zayn. He’s kinda bossy in bed. It’s a little hot, I guess.”

“Why do you keep trying to get me to date Zayn?”

“I didn’t say you had to _date_ him. You could do, like, a consolation fuck.”

“Your self-doubt is really annoying, Louis. Especially when you take it out on my friends.”

“He’s—sort of my friend, too, when he’s not glaring at me.”

“He’d glare at you less if you didn’t act like a giant knob.”

“I have literally no idea how to do that.”

“Stop verbally attacking him, for a start. Maybe go apologize.”

“Oh, Christ. Fine.”

He stood up and left the canteen in a mild huff before heading out to the bleachers where he and Zayn often smoked together. Louis found him slouched midway up, cigarette burning at the corner of his lips.

Louis stopped at the foot of the bleachers. “Sorry for what I said. It was mean of me to mock you, especially if you are in love with him.”

“M’not,” Zayn mouthed around the filter of his cigarette.

“Oh right.” Louis waved a hand vaguely. “The girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” Zayn said, the movement causing his cigarette to dip and nearly fall from his lips.

“No, but. Sorry.” Louis shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

“Thanks I guess.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Far be it from me to stop you.”

Louis clambered up the metal bleachers and sat to one side of Zayn, wildly aware of their proximity. He pulled a crumpled packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his trousers before he realized he’d forgotten the lighter in his car. He held out one hand and could practically _hear_ Zayn roll his eyes.

“Oh whatever, it’s a lighter and five seconds, not the sacrifice of your first-born.”

“Do you want me to lend you the lighter or not?”

“Sorry.” Louis snagged it from Zayn’s fingers and lit his fag before handing the lighter back. He chanced a glance sideways, admiring the line of Zayn’s horrifyingly perfect cheekbones in the afternoon light.

“I don’t think you are, though. Sorry, I mean.” Zayn exhaled.

Louis pursed his lips. “I am. I think I am.”

“God, you’re a fucking robot.” He stubbed out his cigarette and threw the butt onto the grass. “Just smoke up and leave me alone.”

“Fine.” Louis shifted his weight forward in a movement to stand.

“Ugh, whatever, you don’t have to.”

Louis stilled. “What is it you want from me? Do you hate me or love me or love when I’m being terrible to you? What is it, exactly?”

“Morbid curiosity.”

“About what?”

“About _you._ Why you?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Louis said with a filthy sneer. “I asked him the same thing and even he doesn’t know.”

“Christ.” Zayn stood up and worked his way down the bleachers until he hit the green turf. Louis scrambled to follow him.

“I have a better question for you, actually,” he called as his feet hit the turf, watching Zayn’s retreating figure with the joyful feeling of danger and idiocy fizzing through his limbs.

“A what?” Zayn stopped abruptly, causing Louis to nearly lose his footing.

“The question. The better question isn’t _why me._ It’s actually _why not you?”_

Zayn turned on his heel and stormed toward Louis at a half-run, tackling him around the waist and sending him into a painful sprawl. Then he was pummeling him randomly, hitting chest and abdomen and jaw and face. Louis almost laughed in surprise and shock, arching his hips up to counter Zayn and rock him backwards. Then Louis shoved at Zayn’s shoulders and tipped him so he fell back, allowing Louis to straddle him easily. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Louis asked, shoving Zayn’s shoulders into the rough turf, unable to keep a bewildered smile off his face.

“I fucking hate you,” Zayn hissed, but instead of shoving Louis off he surged up and kissed him, harder than he had ever kissed him before. Zayn’s lips were hard and unmoving, but his tongue ducked easily into Louis’ mouth.

“Why are you—”

“Shut up.” Zayn wound his legs between Louis’ own.

“But what are you—”

Zayn surged into Louis, knocking their shoulders together painfully. “I’m not in love with him. I’m not.” He shoved against Louis’ chest with one hand, pushing them away from one another even as their would legs kept them close.

“And you’re not in love with me?”

“Fuck no,” Zayn said, shoving him again.

“Thank Christ.”

“I kind of hate you actually.”

“Oh good. Something new and different.” Louis sagged against Zayn slightly, making him grumbled in annoyance.

“Shut up. Do you wanna—not be here?”

“Really? I thought you hated me and found me intolerable.”

“Do. Still don’t wanna rut against you in the middle of a field.” Zayn bucked his hips for effect. “Prefer a car at the very least.”

“You realize my family doesn’t give two shits about what I do, right?” Louis smiled down benevolently.

“Really?” Zayn furrowed his brows. “Mine want me to be a barrister.”

“Idiot. I meant what I get up to at my house.”

“Such as?”

“Apologizing.”

Louis ducked in, giving Zayn a filthy smile. This earned him a bitten lip and another roll of Zayn’s hips. “Only if you keep your mouth shut.”

***  
“You weren’t in chemistry yesterday,” Liam said, bumping his shoulder into Louis’ in the corridor as he caught up with him.

“Yeah, I was apologizing to Zayn.” Louis slung his back onto his back lazily, gazing sideways at Liam.

“With your mouth?”

“That’s how one typically apologizes,” Louis agreed slowly, slowing his pace.

“It’s just,” Liam said, biting the inside of his cheek. “You’ve got bruises on your neck.”

“Yeah. I—yeah.” Louis covered his neck with one hand.

“Effective apologizing then.” Liam spun on his heel but hesitated.

“I guess.”

“Have fun with that.” With that, he walked toward the other end of the corridor, leaving Louis behind.

“It was your idea!” Louis called.

“Not that part, it wasn’t,” Liam disagreed, turning a corner without a further look.

“Shit.”


End file.
